


Honour

by severinne



Category: State of Play (TV)
Genre: Power Play, Prison Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before this, DCI William Bell was the last honourable man Cal knew. But at least he got some rough, kinky prison-cell sex out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candesgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candesgirl/gifts).



> Written for the ever-delightful candesgirl :)

‘I want to know who you called.’

Cal glanced up, then down, then up again at the formidable shape of DCI Bell filling the doorway to his holding cell. ‘Come in, stay a while.’

Disapproval tightened that typically softened mouth, but Bell stepped inside all the same, pulling the door shut behind him after a fleeting, non-verbal exchange with the officer outside. The room was generous for a cell, broad-walled and bright, yet Cal could feel the space throbbing close around him with the addition of the taller man within it.

A pleased shiver touched Cal’s spine beneath his clothing.

‘Your sim card seems to have vanished from your phone,’ Bell drawled, not sounding the least bit surprised. ‘Now, where could it have gone?’

‘I don’t know.’ Cal bit his lower lip gently. ‘Could search me, if you like.’

He watched the slight flush travel from beneath Bell’s pristine white collar, and fought to repress a smile. Judging by the annoyed scowl he got in return, Cal figured he might have been less than successful keeping his amusement under wraps.

‘Look…’ DCI Bell shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, studied the toe caps of his leather shoes before glancing up from beneath lashes that, now that Cal looked twice, were really surprisingly lush. ‘I thought it best not to mention this in front of your editor, but you should know I had Stephen Collins under surveillance after Sonia Baker’s death hit the press.’

‘Yeah?’ Cal drummed his fingertips on the wall at his back, waiting. Always better to wait.

‘Yeah.’ And now Bell sounded more like the cocky bastard he had been back in the interrogation room, a growl beneath his words. ‘Which is how I know that you put out a fair bit more than a spare bedroom for your old mate.’

Cal looked away, restrained his response to a quirk of the eyebrow.

‘And not long after that, Anne Collins came to spend the night, didn’t she?’

‘She’s got nothing to do with this,’ Cal snapped, and immediately winced. Now Bell was the one smiling, equally smug.

‘Which begs the question, which one did you call? The husband, or the wife?’

‘Maybe I was calling you.’ His calm restored, Cal caught the other man’s eye again and forced a cruel smirk. ‘Didn’t you have your mobile on, William?’

‘Don’t be a prick about this, I need to know-‘

‘Did it make you jealous? Seeing me with Stephen?’

‘Why should I be?’ Bell closed in smoothly, his glacial manners crackling with something dangerous that made Cal’s breath catch in his throat. ‘I knew what you were back then, and nothing you’ve done lately has changed that impression.’

‘And what was I, then?’ Cal asked, softly. ‘What am I now?’

Bell didn’t touch him, was always too controlled for that, but the arms braced to either side of Cal’s shoulders, the inward tilt of his head over Cal’s ear was as effective as any deliberate caress. ‘Slut,’ he whispered, almost lazily but it was enough to make Cal release a soft moan, his cock twitching in anticipation.

‘And Cameron told me not to take anal sex for granted,’ Cal murmured.

Bell froze, startled green eyes widening before narrowing with disgust. Abruptly, he took a decisive step backward, looked pointedly away. ‘I’m not going to rape you,’ he snapped bitterly.

‘What a shame.’ Cal slouched into the wall, put on what he knew to be his best pout. ‘And here you have me, at your mercy…’ He dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘And I’d do anything to get out of here-’

‘Don’t,’ Bell spat. ‘You don’t have to… I’m not like that.’

Cal rolled his eyes. ‘I know you’re not. And no offense, but Adam’s gonna have me out before you know it. But while we’re waiting…’

He reached for Bell’s hand and lifted it to his parted mouth. He watched and waited, waited for the ever-present smoulder of lust in Bell’s eyes to expand and burn before closing his lips around the tip of the index finger, tongue swirling delicately over a barely perceptible fingerprint. Bell sucked in a sharp breath, but otherwise didn’t react; determined, Cal released the finger with a last, lingering lick that dragged to the middle finger, which he sucked firmly into his mouth. That earned him a shaky sigh, and the slightest sensation of Bell’s finger sliding in and out, moving by only the smallest measures. Cal allowed the tentative play to continue for an indulgent moment, then pushed the finger out with his tongue. Bell frowned, more in confusion than displeasure, and Cal smirked, tightening his grip on Bell’s wrist.

Cal took the ring finger all the way to the knuckle, devouring the full length of the digit with a scraping of teeth and Bell finally made _that_ noise, that guttural and desirous sound that shot straight to Cal’s cock every time. He allowed a muffled moan to sound around his mouthful, and kept his eyes locked with Bell’s as he dragged his teeth carefully back to the tip, releasing his finger with a gentle popping sound from tightly pursed lips.

Never breaking that intent gaze, Cal turned his head slightly to the right and spat out his wedding ring.

The soft ping of gold hitting the concrete floor was surprisingly loud in the sudden quiet of the cell. Bell’s startled green eyes flicked down to watch his ring fall, and shot just as quickly upward to glare at Cal, incandescent with a fury that sang through the sudden and sharp slap that landed across Cal’s face, that rocked his head back into the wall with a resounding crack. A large hand seized his throat, and Bell was all around him now, using the full advantage of his taller frame to press Cal into the wall. His mouth hovered excruciatingly close, breath hot but lips unwilling to touch, never crossing that line. ‘What the hell do you want?’ he hissed, a coarse and unschooled rasp breaking his voice.

Cal didn’t answer with words, but with a hand that worked its own advantage over Bell’s dangerous proximity, slipping over the other man’s groin and massaging the erection that he knew he would find there. His fingers danced with an innate familiarity, lewdly exploring the rock-hard shape of Bell straining against the softness of his fine wool trousers, playing at him until a deep, almost despairing groan rushed over Cal’s face and the hand squeezing his throat lost its grip.

Triumphant, Cal slid down the wall to his knees.

With his eyes closed, Cal fell into touch and smell, rubbing his face into the taut wool and breathing the musky scent of Bell’s arousal through his open mouth while his hands tore at the belt buckle, tugged at button and zip and freed his heavy, flushed cock from the confines of his boxer shorts. He traced its length with his fingers, held it steady in his fist and leaned in closer. Gave it a single slow stroke, squeezed, moistened his lips in the pre-come beading from the crown and slid irrevocably forward.

At the first, firm suck Cal heard a muffled thud and blinked upward to where Bell had slammed his hand into the wall, seeming to support his shaking, heaving body by its strength alone. Bell was panting alarmingly quick, his gasping breaths punctuated by stifled moans; Cal could just make out the pained creasing of his face as his brow dropped forward to rest on the back of his hand against the wall, mouth gaping with exertion. Even in the shadow made by the shelter of his body, Bell’s eyes shuttering open to stare down at Cal were shockingly bright.

Trembling fingers grazed across Cal’s jaw, but the touch was too light, still too hesitant. Cal met his piercing gaze, hummed low around the cock filling his mouth, and slowly moved his hands above his head, resting them against the wall with wrists precisely crossed.

More than the approving growl, beyond the hand that locked tight around his wrists and pinned him to the wall, it was the fierce and naked desire in Bell’s eyes that told Cal he had finally won this round.

Eyes drifting shut again, Cal allowed himself to enjoy his prize, relishing the exquisite pressure of that sweat-damp hand restraining his wrists while he slid his lips languidly over all that engorged flesh. His tongue chased out every tremor, sought out every part of Bell’s overwhelmingly masculine taste beneath the lingering scent of a soap brand that had gone unchanged through all the years, and Cal was so deeply immersed in sensation and memory that he didn’t immediately register the hand that was now forcing his arms downward, away from the wall before letting go. With a flash of irritation, Cal began to pull off Bell’s cock, eyes glaring upward then widening in shock when the hand that had rejected him caught the back of his head and shoved him forward again. Choking slightly, Cal blinked up at Bell, who was still braced to the wall but sneering down at him.

‘What’s wrong?’ His voice was a hoarse whisper, soft compared to the thumb bruising circles into the skin behind Cal’s ear. ‘Forgot your place, did you? Stupid little slut…’ His hips began to rock forward with short, brutal thrusts into Cal’s mouth. ‘I can arrest you, throw you in a cell, have you on your knees with my dick down your throat and you _still won’t learn_ …’ He emphasized each of the last three breathless words with three increasingly deep thrusts, making Cal’s eyes water as he urged his throat to open for him before he gagged on Bell’s cock, overwhelmed by his own need and that of the magnificent man using him. _William…_

‘Touch yourself.’ Bell spat the order hurriedly, as though anticipating the desire flooding Cal’s oxygen-deprived brain, and Cal fumbled desperately to obey, unfastening his trousers just far enough to release his achingly hard cock. Too far gone for teasing or finesse, he worked himself with both hands, stroking furiously with one while the other palmed over the slick and weeping head, pleasuring himself with a singular focus that surrendered the rest of his body to the whims of Bell’s hand clutching the base of his skull, to the demands Bell’s cock fucking his mouth.

He felt Bell withdraw by a short measure and pause against his pliant tongue, unmoving save for an uncontrollable throbbing that Cal read in a heartbeat and he sharpened his tongue, circled the unbearably hot flesh and Bell came with a short, stifled shout, pulsing thick over the roof of his mouth. Cal swallowed convulsively, greedily, and couldn’t resist angling forward to follow Bell as he slipped from his mouth, far too close to his own release to restrain the low, needy sound that escaped his throat. Shuddering at the onslaught of pleasure knotting itself into the base of his spine, Cal fisted himself harder, eyes screwed shut, and cried out at the surprise of fingers rubbing over his moist, parted lips, drawing out the lingering burn of overexertion.

‘Such a filthy, pretty mouth you’ve got.’ A thumb slipped past his teeth, and Cal was undone, hips snapping hard while he came all over his own hands, distantly aware of the mess he had made as he slumped down, giving Bell’s thumb a parting bite before letting it go completely.

Cal sat back on his heels and leaned his head back against the wall, feeling strangely calm in the wake of his orgasm, hands slack at his sides while he savoured the quiet, broken only by the prickling sensation of being scrutinized. Frowning, Cal cracked an eye open. Bell had dropped to one knee before him, looking obnoxiously tidy for a man whom Cal could still taste in his mouth, and was studying him with something like concern in those beautiful eyes of his.

‘What happened to you, Callum?’

Cal felt a disdainful smirk tugging at his lips, and had to look away. He heard Bell heave a sigh, and released one of his own at the touch of fingers beneath his jaw, coaxing his gaze forward again.

‘Callum.’ It sounded so plaintive, and Bell’s imploring expression was so open and raw that Cal felt a wave of what he chose to identify as disgust surge up his throat. He swallowed hard and licked his lips, tasting his reply before letting it slip.

‘I think,’ he murmured, ‘that five minutes ago you were the last honourable man I knew.’

Bell snatched his hand back as though burned, a fresh surge of anger flaring in his eyes before he was able to look down to the floor. By the time he had spotted and retrieved his wedding ring, all the inward anger and outward pity had recoiled from Cal’s watchful eye, solidified back into a block of ice. All the same, Cal watched, impassive, as Bell rose steadily to his feet, slipping a hand inside his jacket pocket.

The immaculately folded handkerchief unfurled as it dropped into Cal’s lap. ‘Clean yourself up,’ Bell muttered, already at the cell door. He rapped it once with his knuckles, and didn’t look back as the guard opened it to let him out. Without that backward glance, he wouldn’t have seen that Cal had taken up the handkerchief and followed his command before the door had even slammed shut, even though Cal suspected that William had meant something other than the semen on his hands.


End file.
